Gang War Ambassador (zako, F/F combat, boot focus)
A very brief zako story set in a 22nd century riddled by gang- and corporate-warfare, where endless armies of sexy, expendable combat sluts fight and kill and die orgasmically.
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Gang War Ambassador
Kinzey sat at her desk, tapping her long, white leather boots impatiently.
“She was supposed to be here by now,” she said.
Her chief bodyguard nodded, then checked her comm. “She’s entering now,” she said.
Unlike Kinzey, who as the commanding regional underboss of the White Birch mercenary corps had the luxury of fancy thigh-high boots, with gold trim and high heels, Murray was stuck with merc standard black leather. Like all the White Bitch girls, she’d picked the longest available, but that was just knee-high, and she burned with ambition to reach Kinzey’s heights of command with its associated freedom of fashion.
Momentarily, the door opened, and the King Street Killers ambassador walked into the room. She was panting and glassy-eyed, and Kinzey could tell from the wetness at her thighs why she’d been delayed. The underboss’s lips twitched with scorn.
The K.S. Killers might just have been a filthy street gang, compared to the White Birch’s professionalism, but you’d think they could send a girl who could keep it together long enough for a ceasefire conference.
“You are?” she said coldly.
“Kellren, Class 2 Killer,” the ambassador said, with a slightly loopy smile. The woman was wearing tight shorts, a bandolier across her tits, and shiny green latex boots that reached almost to the hems of her booty shorts.
From the wetness she could see between the shorts and the top of the boots, Kinzey and Murray could both tell what had delayed her.
“That lack of focus is exactly why you bitches keep getting slaughtered,” Kinzey couldn’t help but comment, venom in her voice.
“It’s an advantage, too,” Kellren said. Her boots squeaked as she seated herself across from Kinzey, perching on the chair like a bird. “Girls in a state like mine, do you have any idea how hot it is to get White Birch blood on our hands?”
Murray’s belly tightened. Kinzey may have been a little too removed from the battle lines to remember, but the White Birch girls were fundamentally the same as the Killers in that respect – horny cunts eager to kill, hot young bitches who could get off at the drop of a hat to slaughtering other women or even to getting themselves slaughtered.
It was what made recruiting so easy in the gang- and corpo-wars of the wrecked 22nd century. Almost infinite amounts of horny bitch meat for the grinder.
“I assume you’re here to discuss terms of surrender,” Kinzey said. “We’ve beaten you back to a single stronghold, and we’ve got plenty more girls to drive it home, but we’d rather not kill you all.”
Kellren nodded. “You’d much rather uproot the Killers and drop us off as a suicide army for one of your other wars, right?”
Kinzey shrugged. “That’s for the bosses to decide. Better than dying today, though, isn’t it?”
Kellren smiled and licked her lips, stretching lasciviously in the seat. There was a look of expectation in her eyes.
“The mistresses of the King Street Killers have issued a decree,” she said, her voice soft but tinged with frenzy. “War of Extermination.”
Kinzey blinked. “What?”
“We’re going to fucking slaughter every last one of you,” Kellren said dreamily. “We’re going to bathe in your blood until there are none of us or none of you, you stupid slut.”
The underboss seemed slightly taken aback. “You aren’t here to negotiate?”
Kellren frowned. This wasn’t going how she wanted it to.
“Well?” she said, arching her back to present her belly. “Aren’t you going to…?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kinzey said, glaring, angry at herself at how hot the Killer minx’s sexy display was getting her. “This isn’t a stupid gang war, the White Birch does business, do you understand that? Profits and losses, cost-benefit?”
Kellren sighed. If this had been a gang negotiation, she would already have been riddled with bullets or blades, cumming her brains out as she bled her life away.
“I guess I’ll have to spark it off myself,” she said grumpily.
Dipping her hands into her boots, she pulled out two composo-ceramic combat knives – not the best things for long term use, but just the ticket for getting past a not-too-detailed security scan.
Bracing herself against her chair, she launched herself across the desk at Kinzey.
The underboss had moments to scream in alarm, planting her boots against the desk edge and shoving back to create some space, but the Killer’s leap was too far, and Kellren landed on Kinzey, both of them falling to the floor.
Kinzey wailed with unexpected pain as Kellren drove two knives deep into her belly.
“You stupid corpo cunt!” Kellren cried, grinding her pussy against Kinzey’s thigh as she jerked her knives free. “You should have snuffed me as soon as I started talking! Hah!”
Kinzey fought back as best she could, flailing her fists against Kellren, but it only seemed to enflame the gang ambassador more. Kellren reared up, knives held point-down, but before she could deliver the killing blow, there was a rattling clatter from Murray’s suppressed gun, and a series of red splotches appeared crossing Kellren’s flat, tight belly.
Kellren wailed with pain and lust, her body hunching forward as agony shot through it, and for a moment hope flooded Kinzey - She’s dead, she’s fucking dead, they’re going to patch me up, that stupid bitch is dead.
With the hyperclarity of adrenaline she saw Kellren’s face twist in a pain-spiked orgasm, felt the slut’s hips jerking as she came, hard, and with a sense of sudden doom Kinzey saw the atavistic lust for death and blood take over Kellren’s body and mind.
Kinzey screamed one last time.
Fueled by pain and pleasure, heedless of death, Kellren came down like a thunderbolt and her two knives punched easily through Kinzey’s soft breasts to sheathe themselves in the underboss’s laboring lungs.
For a moment their eyes met, and the masochistic frenzy of the gang slut seemed to communicate itself in a lightning bolt to Kellren. The two girls’ legs were intertwined, expensive white leather boots shifting and sliding against shiny green latex, their heels clicking together, hips rolling against each other.
Kellren lifted her head, her mouth opening as she groaned with a sadomasochistic orgasm like no other.
Murray put her gun to the girl’s temple and fired. The tension on Kellren’s features melted away into a look of pure brainless pleasure as Murray’s bullet tore through her skull.
The sight sent all her old combat experience crashing back into Kinzey, all the times she’d risked death for the thrill of sending other sluts to their graves, and her back arched as she exploded in a sizzling climax.
Blood was filling her lungs, pouring out of her mouth, as she lay there in a pile with her killer. She could hear Murray’s voice, distant and ringing, but the last thought that spun through her consciousness was for Kellren – Thank you, thank you, oh God that was so good, I’m dying but that was so good, thank you…
Her heels caught on the floor one last time, pushing her hips up, undulating with Kellren’s dead body. Then she quieted and was still, her white boots still laced together with Kellren’s green ones.
Posted Jan 5, 2025, 1:07 PM UTC